It’s still made of wheat, as required by church teaching, but its gluten content has been reduced to less than 10 parts per million.

It’s been a relief for Father Zender, who was diagnosed in 2006 as being gluten-sensitive, like his sister. He began suffering serious allergies 20 years ago, but no treatment had worked.

“At Mass it was unbearable,” Father Zender said. “My symptoms would be worse when using my public speaking voice and while singing. When trying to preside at Mass, it was extremely distracting.”

Since his diagnosis, Father Zender has been avoiding gluten (a protein found in wheat, rye and barley). Though it has greatly improved his allergies, he said they are never completely gone.

Father Zender isn’t alone. Four gluten-related autoimmune disorders have been identified, including celiac disease, which the FDA estimates affects 3 million Americans. Another 18 million are estimated to have gluten sensitivity, according to the advocacy group Beyond Celiac.

Awareness of gluten-related disorders is growing at parishes around the archdiocese — some now offer low-gluten hosts so parishioners and visitors don’t have to forgo receiving the Eucharist.

“It’s a matter of parishes being aware of this need of parishioners, just like wheelchair access and listening devices; we need to provide access to the sacraments,” said Corinna Laughlin, pastoral assistant for liturgy at St. James Cathedral in Seattle.

Holly Renz, pastoral assistant for liturgy at Holy Spirit Parish in Kent, places a pyx containing low-gluten hosts onto the corporal to prepare for Mass. The hosts are kept separate because mingling them with gluten hosts can sicken people who have celiac disease or gluten sensitivity. Photo: Michelle Bruno

Going to extra lengths

St. James Cathedral began offering low-gluten hosts six years ago, when some parish children needed them for their first Communion, Laughlin said.

“We became aware of other families and individuals that needed them,” and now 20 to 25 low-gluten hosts are distributed at the cathedral’s weekend Masses, she said.

St. James prints instructions in the bulletin so visitors and parishioners can find the designated place to receive the special host. One minister at each Mass is assigned to distribute only low-gluten hosts, to avoid cross-contamination, Laughlin said.

Cross-contamination is a big deal, according to Lydia Kunzler, a St. Louise parishioner who was diagnosed with celiac disease after 10 years of seeking a reason for her symptoms. If she consumes any amount of gluten over 20 ppm, her small intestine will be damaged. So mixing low-gluten hosts with regular hosts must be avoided, and those handling the hosts should wash their hands first, according to Laughlin.

The chance of cross-contamination can also make it risky for those with celiac disease to receive from the cup, which in any case is not available at every Mass.

“I can only take wine if I’m the first one to the wine,” Kunzler said. “Pieces [of the host] might get in. It would be really bad.”

That means going to extra lengths to receive Communion.

To ensure her safety, Kunzler buys her own hosts and has her own pyx to hold them. Before heading to Mass, she places a host in her pyx; once at church, she puts the pyx in a special basket that is brought up to the altar. At Communion, the sacristan hands Kunzler her pyx, and she handles the consecrated host herself.

“There’s so many who think it’s just a fad,” Kunzler said. “But it’s not a fad for people like us. We literally cannot have gluten.”

Justin Shaw, a St. Louise parishioner and sixth-grader at Eastside Catholic Middle School in Sammamish, has received a low-gluten host since his first Communion. Like Kunzler, he brings his pyx to Mass at St. Louise and adds it to the basket. He would bring his pyx to Eastside Catholic, but because the school only has occasional Masses, “it’s hard to remember,” Justin said.

When visiting other parishes, Kunzler said, it’s a challenge not knowing if they offer low-gluten hosts or what the protocol is if they do.

Father Gary Zender elevates his low-gluten presider’s host during Mass at St. Louise de Marillac Parish in Bellevue. Father Zender has needed a low-gluten host since 2006. Photo: Lynette Basta

Hosts without gluten are invalid

Years ago at Holy Spirit Parish in Kent, there was some confusion about whether a host could be free of all gluten, said Holly Renz, pastoral assistant for liturgy. Then in 2003, “the Vatican came out with guidelines, which made it much easier to know what to do,” she said. Under those guidelines, hosts that are completely gluten-free are invalid for celebrating the Eucharist.

So Holy Spirit Parish, like St. Louise, orders its low-gluten hosts from Benedictine Sisters of Perpetual Adoration in Missouri. Renz, whose daughter has celiac disease, is the only one at Holy Spirit Parish to handle the low-gluten hosts before Mass, using a dedicated pyx for them. “If there’s any doubt about a pyx, I wash it out first,” she said.

A handful of parishioners at Holy Spirit receive low-gluten hosts; visitors needing a low-gluten host check in with the ushers. Father Raymond Cleaveland, Holy Spirit’s priest administrator, distributes the low-gluten hosts in a regular Communion line to each person who has requested it.

“If only one person needs it, I want to provide it,” Renz said. “We tell people that the Eucharist is at the heart of what we do. It’s why we come, to receive Jesus in that way,” she said. “Yes, a person can do a spiritual communion, but as people we have bodies, and we need the physical, tangible presence.”

Kunzler said it would be “really hard” if she couldn’t receive the Eucharist. So having her own pyx and hosts is helpful when going on a cruise or visiting another parish, when she can’t be assured of having access to low-gluten hosts.

Being gluten-sensitive, Father Zender said, is an annoyance in life and a reminder of his own weakness. “This is a struggle that I have, and it makes me more sensitive to those who have struggles greater than mine.”

Father Zender said he is grateful for the sisters who make the low-gluten hosts, for the bishops who offer the option, and that he can receive the Eucharist under both forms.

“It is a very precious gift and if I weren’t able to take Communion at all it would be a huge loss,” he said.

A: Your question is a good one and something that is very important to reflect on throughout the Christian life and not just during the holy time of Lent. The offering of sacrifice is something Jesus fulfilled and perfected, not abolished. Rather, the eternal sacrifice of Jesus is opened to us so that we can be joined to him in becoming one perfect offering to the Father. That’s actually the greatest honor and purpose of the Christian life.

Let’s reflect a bit more on what we mean by sacrifice so that we can appreciate the profound spiritual invitation Jesus offers us.

Sacrifices in the ancient Jewish world of Jesus had a variety of purposes and usually involved the immolation of an animal. Sacrifices were used to seal covenants both between human persons and between humanity and God. Sacrifices were also used to atone for sins, to offer thanksgiving for blessings received, and to establish communion among participants when shared as a meal. (The practice of sacrifice in ancient Judaism should be carefully distinguished from sacrifices offered in the pagan world where such acts were intended to either appease or influence the gods in a particular way.)

The sacrifice of Jesus on the cross perfects all these purposes of Jewish sacrifices.

The word sacrifice comes from two Latin terms which together mean “to make holy.” This is why making sacrifices is an essential part of the Christian life.

You see, only God can make something holy. We can’t. In making a sacrifice, we are giving to God a part of our lives so that God can make it holy. Wow! That is so much more than just giving up something for 40 days. When we make a sacrifice as a Christian disciple, we are not throwing something away or just practicing self-discipline. Rather, we are actively giving to God something dear to us so that God can receive that gift and use it for his purposes.

If we understand sacrifice in this way, why would we ever hold anything back from God? After all, what we don’t offer to God isn’t made holy, and what is not holy is not eternal. Any part of our lives that we are not offering to God to be used for his purposes is an unholy part of us. That’s worthy of reflection always, but especially during the 40 days of Lent.

It’s important to remember that Jesus alone is the one eternal sacrifice acceptable to the Father. We are all imperfect and sinful. We can only be made holy in Christ Jesus since we have no merit of our own apart from him.

In his gracious love, Jesus invites us to offer our lives with him to the Father so that we become part of his one perfect eternal act of self-giving to God. This invitation is offered to us at all times throughout our day as we make personal offerings, but it is also offered in a particularly graced way at every Mass when we offer our gifts and the priest prays that “my sacrifice and yours may be acceptable to God, the almighty Father.” In that moment, each of us is given the opportunity and privilege of spiritually placing our lives so as to be joined with Jesus, be transformed by him, and become his body - the holy instrument of God’s presence and action in the world. By being joined to Jesus in this way through the sacrifice of the Mass, it is no longer we who live but Christ who lives in us. (see Galatians 2:20)

What part of your life are you holding back from God’s transforming and sanctifying grace? Perhaps these 40 days of Lent can be a time when you specifically offer to God those parts that most need to be made holy and discover what the Lord can do in you and through you.

That reaction drew laughter from the nearly 1,100 parishioners who gathered at St. Michael Church November 5 for “the big reveal” — their first look at their remodeled worship space, followed by a solemn but joyful dedication Mass celebrated by Archbishop J. Peter Sartain.

“Sacred architecture truly is meant to invoke that [reaction] in us every time we enter into a church such as this, to say, ‘Oh, wow,’ because this is what we offer to God: the fruit of our labors, the best of our handiwork, the voices sung to him in prayers,” Archbishop Sartain said in his homily. “And what does he give us? Everything.”

For most of those attending, it might be the only time in their lives they witness an altar being dedicated, the archbishop said.

“I have the privilege of doing one of the most beautiful sacred actions that the church offers us in our liturgy, when I will anoint this altar with holy chrism,” he added.

The anointing turns the altar from a beautiful piece of stone into something new — the symbol of Christ in the church, the archbishop said.

“Because this altar will be the place where the sacred sacrifice of Jesus on Calvary will be celebrated, because this altar will be the place from which you will be fed with what you need, we give it the greatest of care.”

Father Jim Lee, pastor of St. Michael Parish, extends thanks to all those who made the renovation of the parish church possible. Photo: Horizon Photo

Transforming more than a building

The dedication Mass was the first opportunity for St. Michael parishioners to see the completed $4.25 million renovation of the church building.

Besides transforming the sanctuary, the project created an ADA-accessible entry with a covered waiting area, a new kitchen next to the gathering space, expanded and updated bathrooms, more storage spaces, and the Blessed Pier Giorgio Frassati room for welcoming new parishioners and faith sharing. It added a new audio/visual system (with a hearing loop system) in the church.

During the months of construction, parishioners received progress reports through a series of videos on the parish website by Father Jim Lee, St. Michael’s pastor. The project was about more than transforming the worship space, he said in one of the videos.

“It’s mostly about the transformation of … we the people of St. Michael Parish, who are called to be the living stones, this church of God that goes forth into our community, that welcomes others in, to bring them to salvation, to bring them to a relationship with Jesus Christ,” he said.

Archbishop J. Peter Sartain spreads chrism oil over the top of the new November 5 marble altar during the dedication rites at St. Michael Church in Olympia. Photo: Horizon Photo

Blessing with chrism

Parishioners began arriving more than an hour early for the dedication Mass, waiting with anticipation in the large gathering space outside the sanctuary. Curtains had been hung in front of the windowed entry doors to conceal the view until the appointed time.

Then a procession of the archbishop, priests, deacons and ministers moved through the center of the crowd, with the parish’s relics of Sts. Lucy and Felicity (from its previous altar) carried on a bier, inside a box called a feretory.

After the curtains were lowered and the sanctuary doors were opened, parishioners slowly streamed in, some seemingly awe-struck by the soaring, golden-hued Italian tile mosaic on the wall behind the new marble altar, a new backdrop for the crucifix.

Parishioners packed the pews, while the rest of the overflow crowd sat in the gathering space, where they got close-up views of the Mass via the church’s new audio/visual systems.

The dedication rites followed the profession of faith. They included Archbishop Sartain placing the saints’ relics in a small opening in the back of the altar, and a stone mason sealing the opening with a piece of marble.

After the prayer of dedication, the archbishop poured chrism oil in a cross in the center of the altar top and at each of its corners. As adults and children raised smartphones to capture video of rite, the archbishop rolled up his sleeve, using his open palm to spread the chrism, covering every inch of the altar’s surface. Afterward, he blessed the four corners of the church with chrism.

{gallery}St Michael Dedication Mass{/gallery}

‘A corner of heaven’

For parishioner Mary Frances Brennan, deciding to attend the dedication Mass was easy.

“I mean, anointing the walls — how glorious is that? We’re making this into a corner of heaven,” she said. “We love Father Jim. He’s a spiritual father to so many of us,” Brennan added. “I wanted to come and honor his love for our parish.”

Shelley and Dominic Moritz brought their 20-month-old daughter, Brynn, to the dedication. Shelley, who was baptized at St. Michael Church and married to Dominic at the parish’s Westside Chapel, said she wanted to share in the excitement of the dedication service and hear her niece and nephews sing in the children’s choir.

Priests with long connections to the parish were also present for the Mass. Father Lee gave special acknowledgment to Father William Treacy, who was pastor at St. Michael’s in the 1970s and will be celebrating his 75th anniversary of priesthood this year.

Father Matthew Oakland, who grew up at St. Michael’s and is pastor at Holy Rosary Parish in West Seattle, said he was happy he could attend the dedication — his first one, since they are usually held on Sundays when a priest has obligations to his own parish.

At the end of Mass, Father Lee thanked all those at St. Michael’s who helped in large and small ways to bring the project to fruition.

“Your presence here tonight and each and every time we gather is what truly transforms a mere building into the Domus Dei et Porta Coeli, the House of God and the Gate of Heaven,” he said.

St. Michael's hosting multi-choir concert

To celebrate the reopening of its renovated main church, St. Michael Parish is hosting a dozen South Sound interfaith choirs for an evening of song at 7 p.m. November 14.

“It was amazing. I felt like the richest person in the whole world,” said Christina Srinivasan, a native of India and member of Mary, Queen of Peace Parish in Sammamish. “I suddenly remembered what a big family we are as Catholics.”

The Mass at St. James Cathedral, attended by an estimated 500-plus people, was celebrated by Archbishop J. Peter Sartain, with Bishop Eusebio Elizondo, Bishop Daniel Mueggenborg and priests of the archdiocese concelebrating.

“Yes, we have individual patron saints,” Archbishop Sartain said in his homily, “but our countries and cultures also have patron saints, who are instruments of God’s love and inspire us to follow Jesus, who pray for us, who give us hope when times are tough.”

Many of these patron saints, he said, were represented at the special liturgy. Their images were carried in the entry procession by people representing diverse communities: Chinese-American, Laotian-American, Filipino-American, Hispanic/Latino-American, Italian-American, Korean-American, Polish-American, Samoan-American, Native American, Irish-American, Indian-American, Kenyan-American (Swahili), Lebanese-American and African-American (see box for the list of saints honored).

The liturgy also celebrated diversity. The St. Peter Chanel Samoan Youth Choir sang. The prayers of the faithful were prayed by deacons in English, Filipino, Polish and Samoan. The gift bearers represented five continents — Africa, Asia, Europe, North America and South America. And an honor guard was provided by the Knights of Peter Claver (an African-American Catholic lay organization), the Knights of Peter Claver Ladies Auxiliary and the Knights of Columbus.

The Mass was held on the feast of St. Martin de Porres, a saint who Archbishop Sartain said has held a special importance for his family. His father, Joseph Martin Sartain, adopted St. Martin de Porres as his patron while in his 30s.

St. Martin, son of a Spanish nobleman and a Panamanian ex-slave, was born in Lima, Peru, in 1579. He grew up in poverty; he eventually took vows as a Dominican lay brother and spent the rest of his life caring for the poor and sick of Lima. He died in 1639.

“There was always a statue of Martin in our home, we learned about him growing up, and one of my nephews now bears the name,” said the archbishop, who as a fourth-grader dressed up as St. Martin for a book report.

“A priest friend once said to me that he thinks our patron saints choose us, and I agree completely,” Archbishop Sartain said. “They want to help us come close to Jesus.”

Over the years, the archbishop said, he has been “chosen” by many saints — from St. Peter to St. Catherine of Siena. “They pray for me and offer inspiration through their writings and example.”

Celebrating the saints, Archbishop Sartain said, “reminds us that we are part of an eternal communion in Jesus Christ, and in him we are one with friends seen and unseen. We have more Christian guides and protectors than we imagine, and they are cheering us along the path to life eternal, a path we never travel alone.”

{gallery}2018 Celebration of Our Saints{/gallery}

Saints honored

These cultural and ethnic communities honored their beloved saints at the November 3 Celebration of Our Saints Mass at St. James Cathedral:

Sisters and brothers in Christ, many years ago, when Bishop Elizondo, Bishop Mueggenborg, and I were ordained deacons, during the liturgy of ordination we lay prostrate on the floor of a church, as a sign of our total abandonment to God and his purposes. We did so again when we were ordained priests, and years later, when we were ordained bishops. All priests and deacons have done the same, and all of us repeat that moving gesture in our parish churches on Good Friday, as an act of surrender and devotion to the cross of Christ. Spiritually speaking, abandonment means many things. First and foremost, it is a sign of our emptiness, our unworthiness, our sinfulness, a sign that we place ourselves at the mercy of God. We must constantly empty ourselves, so that we will allow God to fill us — fill us again and again, empty us again and again, fill us again and again, with his wisdom and love. We remind ourselves that our ministry is not our own, that the people we love and serve are God’s people, every one of them precious to him in ways far beyond telling, every single one of them the apple of his eye, the object of his fathomless favor.

We wanted to begin our Prayer of Repentance and Healing this evening with another act of abandonment and surrender, by praying the Confiteor together. As if those who know us needed further proof, we needed to proclaim publicly to God, and to you, that we know we are sinners, unworthy servants of the God of love, in need of constant forgiveness for the sins we commit, whatever their nature and number. At times we fail in our abandonment to God and his purposes, and when we do, we also fail you, his beloved. We are especially contrite and saddened because some of God’s beloved entrusted to our care were abused by the very ministers of God, bishops and priests and others, who should have been protecting them. We are deeply sorry, because we love God, and we love you, with all our heart.

Two weeks ago, the priests of the archdiocese gathered here in the Cathedral at noon to pray the Stations of the Cross. We wanted to be together at this troubling, scandalous time, to walk with Jesus, and with all those who have been harmed in the Church, on the way of Calvary. We wanted to express our sorrow to Jesus for any way we ourselves made his way of the Cross necessary. We wanted to express our fraternity as brothers in the Lord, as well as our solidarity with you, in this difficult time. And yes, we wanted to receive God’s gift of hope at a troubling time in the Church.

Tonight, in an expression of lament and hope prepared and read by some of our sisters in Christ, we heard the sadness, hurt and frustration of God’s people — we heard your voices. It is good to give voice to what our hearts and souls speak, because in praying just that way, honestly pouring out our hearts to God, we become receptive to the voice of God. How could you not say to God that you are saddened and hurt at this moment in the Church, that you are confused and angered by the actions of some of his ministers, and that we need the kind of healing and wisdom that only God can give? The Bible is filled with just such honest prayers, just such lamenting and hoping, in the ancient voices of God’s beloved at other painful times, when indeed words could not be found to say what needed to be said.

The author of the Book of Lamentations speaks at just such a time. “My soul is deprived of peace,” he writes. “I have forgotten what happiness is. … Remembering … over and over leaves my soul downcast within me.” A lament prayed openly and bluntly, with receptivity to God’s reply. “But I will call this to mind as my reason to have hope: the favors of the Lord are not exhausted; his mercies are not spent. My portion is the Lord, says my soul; therefore, I will hope in him.” God is not ashamed of us when we pour out our hearts; rather, he hears and listens and confirms his faithfulness. My sisters and brothers, tonight the authors of lamentations, both those in the Bible and those spoken in this Cathedral, also proclaim to us: “The favors of the Lord are not exhausted … therefore I will hope in him.”

In the past week, the Church has celebrated several feasts which speak directly to our hearts at this difficult moment. On September 29th, we celebrated those great messengers of God, the archangels, sent to bring word of God’s nearness: Michael, whose name means, “Who is like God?” Gabriel, “The Strength of God.” And Raphael, “God heals” — especially appropriate tonight. On October 1st, we celebrated the life of St. Thérèse of the Child Jesus, who left us the powerful “Little Way” of following Jesus as well as a treasury of wisdom. She once said, “My God! ... I desire to love you and make you loved,” and in one of her final testaments, “I will spend my heaven doing good on earth.” On October 2nd, the Church gave us the Holy Guardian Angels, who guard and guide us at every moment as instruments of God’s constant care. Providentially, the Guardian Angels are the co-patrons of the Archdiocese of Seattle.

And today, St. Francis of Assisi. Who better than he teaches us to turn our hearts and souls first to Jesus, to believe in Jesus, and to hold fast to Jesus? And who more than he worked for healing of the Church herself? One day, Francis was praying alone in front of a crucifix in the abandoned chapel of San Damiano. Suddenly, he heard the words of Christ coming from the cross: “Francis, repair my house, which is falling into ruin.”

Who better than Francis, and Thérèse, and Mary the Mother of the Church can teach us how to live the Beatitudes?

In the Beatitudes, Jesus calls his disciples to live in such a way that we allow the grace of his heavenly Father to overtake us. Jesus calls us to surrender, to abandon ourselves to the wisdom and power of God, to trust that in every situation life brings our way — sin, poverty, mourning, hunger, injustice, blindness, persecution, heartbreak, and insult — we are to cling even more strongly to the ways of his Father, to trust ever more blindly that he will bring good out of all things. The favors of the Lord are never exhausted, his mercies never spent, so great is his faithfulness.

And so tonight, pouring out our hearts to God, we listen and pray with hope and resolve to work along with him, and side-by-side with each other, to rebuild his Church. God will show us how to restore trust, how he desires to heal and protect his precious little ones. God will affirm his call that we never stop proclaiming the gospel who is Jesus, his beloved Son and our Savior.

Who is like God, our Strength, our Healer? And who other than the saints teach us to love God and to share his love? And who guards and protects us but God and his angels? And who but the saints teach us to be saints and to live the Beatitudes? They cheer us on to live lives of total surrender and trust in God!

To whom else would we ever go, Lord Jesus? You alone have the words of eternal life. We will hope in you.

The group was small, but appreciative of the opportunity to have Father Tomas Karanauskas, pastor of St. Casimir Catholic Church Los Angeles, celebrate Mass at Immaculate Conception Church in Seattle.

“It was a chance for the community to come together and celebrate being Lithuanian,” said Irena Blekys, a member of Seattle’s St. Joseph Parish.

Artwork from the program cover for the September 14 Lithuanian Mass at Immaculate Conception Church was designed by Nomeda Lukoseviciene. Photo: Courtesy Bruno Kelpsas

Also attending the September 14 Mass was Blekys’ daughter, Ona Spaniola, a parishioner and kindergarten teacher at St. Joseph’s. “I think it’s really neat as a Catholic person, you can kind of follow along, even though you don’t know the words,” said Spaniola, noting that she speaks some Lithuanian and understands some more.

Bruno Kelpsas, who organized the Mass, said some 400 to 500 people of Lithuanian heritage live in the Puget Sound area. (The Portland-Vancouver area is home to another group of Lithuanian-Americans, he said.)

In the Puget Sound region, about 200 people are active in a Lithuanian community group that offers activities such as a traditional choir, a folk dance group, an annual youth heritage camp and a weekend school for children learning Lithuanian. Every All Souls’ Day, community members travel to Roslyn in Kittitas County (once home to a population of Lithuanians) to take care of the graves of their relatives.

“If you go to any other Lithuanian community across the country, everything is [organized] around the parish, and we don’t have [a parish] here,” said Kelpsas, who grew up in the Chicago area, home to a large Lithuanian community.

Some local Lithuanian community members have expressed an interest in having more Catholic activities, and the Archdiocese of Seattle has been supportive of the group’s efforts, Kelpsas said. In April, the community was able to bring Lithuanian Bishop Eugenijus Bartulis of Šiauliai to Seattle during his already scheduled visit to the West Coast, Kelpsas said.

Arriving in the U.S.

In the early 1900s, Lithuania was under rule of the Russian czar; later it became part of the Soviet Union. Lithuanians left for the U.S. in several waves over the decades, seeking freedom, liberty, choice of religion and economic prosperity, said Kelpsas, whose grandfather came to the U.S. in 1907 as a 15-year-old.

Catholicism was one way to resist the occupation of Lithuania by the Soviets, said Blekys, who was born in England after her parents and other family members fled Lithuania during World War II. They eventually moved to Chicago, where the Lithuanian community continued their traditions, “even the churchholidays that were so specific to Lithuania … holidays to bless the fields or the animals,” Blekys said. And the devotion to Mary remained important, with the rosary recited at church every evening, she said.

The identity of the older generations was more tied to the church; among the younger generations, “not a lot of them are practicing Catholics,” Blekys said.

“Maybe [one of] our tasks is to remind people of the history of the church in Lithuania and the difference it made … and the underground church,” she said of the efforts to continue practicing the faith when it was suppressed by the communist government.

Blekys noted that Archbishop Teofilius Matulionis is the first Soviet-era Lithuanian martyr recognized by the Catholic Church (he was beatified in June 2017). He spent 16 years in prisons and labor camps and was murdered in his apartment with a lethal injection.

Pope Francis’ September 22–23 visit to Lithuania was “very important,” Blekys said. “It’s recognition of Catholics in Lithuania,” she said, as well as “world recognition of countries that had been under the Iron Curtain that did not even exist on atlas maps from the 1940s to the 1990s.”

She is hopeful about the future of the Lithuanian Catholic community here.

“Father Tomas is very positive and enthusiastic,” Blekys said. “We’re hoping that, little by little, it may grow. That’s just the way other things in our community have grown,” she said.

Lithuanians love to sing, to dance and “just to have a wonderful time,” Blekys said. “We’re filled with joy.”

As he began his homily for the funeral Mass of Archbishop Emeritus Raymond G. Hunthausen on August 1, Father Michael G. Ryan noted that some people had told him not to expect a large crowd, since the archbishop retired nearly 30 years ago, in 1991.

“Oh ye of little faith,” Father Ryan, pastor of St. James Cathedral and a longtime friend and confidant to the archbishop, joked to the amusement of the standing-room-only gathering at the cathedral, estimated at more than 1,300. Those who came to pay tribute included more than 100 priests serving in the archdiocese, some 70 women religious, 25 deacons and all 17 of the archdiocese’s seminarians.

The lighthearted tone was echoed by Archbishop J. Peter Sartain, who welcomed Archbishop Hunthausen’s extended family — a contingent estimated at more than 100 — by saying to the crowd: “If you see somebody you don’t recognize, just assume they’re members of the Hunthausen family.”

The mood was a tribute to the man most often described as “humble” by those who knew him. “His humor, along with his humility, and a faith stronger than any I’ve ever witnessed, got him through some excruciatingly painful and difficult years,” Father Ryan said.

The last living American bishop to have participated in all four sessions of the Second Vatican Council, Archbishop Hunthausen was credited by the priests who served with him for bringing the council’s documents to life.

“He brought the best spirit of the Second Vatican Council into the church in Western Washington,” said Father William Heric, priest administrator of Christ Our Hope Parish in Seattle. “He made Vatican II come to life.”

His passing is “the end of an era,” Father Heric added.

Edith Aspiri, who with her husband Ray and other lay leaders worked with Archbishop Hunthausen to establish the Catholic Fund in 1986, spoke of her admiration for the deceased archbishop. “If ever I knew someone who was a saint, I think this man qualifies,” she said.

{gallery}Archbishop Hunthausen Funeral Mass{/gallery}

‘Embodiment of the beatitudes’

Throughout the service, Archbishop Hunthausen’s plain wooden casket was positioned over the cathedral’s crypt, where he was laid to his final rest in an afternoon ceremony open to the public. His casket bore the inscription “Blessed are the peacemakers, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”

Archbishop Hunthausen was “the embodiment of the beatitudes,” Father Ryan said in his homily, which wove together stories detailing the personable and sometimes controversial life of the Montana native who became the sixth bishop and second archbishop of Seattle.

He recalled listening sessions with the laity across Western Washington in 1976; the highly publicized Vatican visitation in the 1980s when “the eyes of the country were on Seattle”; and the call that the bishop of Helena (1962–1975) received in 1975 telling him the pope wanted him to serve as archbishop of Seattle.

According to Father Ryan, it was the second time then-Bishop Hunthausen was asked to become an archbishop. The first came in 1973, when Archbishop Jean Jadot, apostolic nuncio to the U.S., asked him to accept appointment as archbishop of Portland, Oregon.

Bishop Hunthausen asked if he could have some time “to think and to pray,” Father Ryan said. After prayerful consideration, he respectfully declined the appointment, considering it the best thing for the church.

Two years later, when he received another call from Archbishop Jadot, the bishop accepted the appointment as Seattle’s archbishop, despite his misgivings and humility. “This time,” Father Ryan said, “his prayers brought him to a different place. As he said to me: ‘It seemed that the Lord was trying to tell me something.’”

The crypt at St. James Cathedral

Archbishop Raymond G. Hunthausen is the second archbishop to be laid to rest in the episcopal crypt at St. James Cathedral, where Archbishop Thomas J. Murphy was interred in 1997.

The crypt beneath the floor is original to the cathedral, built in 1907 during the tenure of Bishop Edward J. O’Dea, according to Corinna Laughlin, the cathedral’s pastoral assistant for liturgy. The entrance to the crypt is covered by the original stone slab, which features a cross.

"The crypt was covered by carpet in 1950 and people forgot it was there,” Laughlin said. When the carpet was removed for the 1994 renovation of the cathedral, the crypt was rediscovered and restored, she said. It has eight burial chambers.

The only entrance to the crypt is an opening in the floor. Scaffolding, winches and cables are required to remove the crypt’s heavy lid, which is some 4–5 inches thick, Laughlin said. Then a ladder is needed to climb the 10–11 feet down into the antechamber, which is about 6–7 feet wide and 12–14 feet long, said Rich Peterson, director of the archdiocese’s Associated Catholic Cemeteries.

At the conclusion of Archbishop Hunthausen’s August 1 committal service, with ACC workers at the ready below, pallbearers and others lowered the archbishop’s casket with ropes, Peterson said. The ACC staffers put the wooden casket in a protective covering, placed it in its individual chamber and sealed it in place, he said.

An inscribed end panel will be installed on Archbishop Hunthausen’s crypt. In addition, an inscription honoring him and noting his burial place will be engraved in one of the eight marble panels surrounding the crypt’s lid.

The archdiocese’s other bishops are interred in the episcopal mausoleum — established by Archbishop Thomas A. Connolly — at Holyrood Cemetery in Shoreline. With the permission of Archbishop J. Peter Sartain, a memorial plaque honoring Archbishop Hunthausen will be installed at the mausoleum, joining a memorial plaque for Archbishop Murphy, “so the story of all our bishops will be told in one place,” Peterson said.

In the Austrian countryside before World War II, bells rang late on Saturday afternoons to signify that the day’s work was ended and it was time to begin preparations for Sunday. It was called “ringing in the Feierabend,” Maria Augusta Trapp wrote in her book Around the Year with the Trapp Family.

Hard work was stopped, a candle was lit, clothes and food were readied for the next day. Quiet and a slower pace settled over the house, as bodies, minds and souls prepared for the next morning’s Mass and a festive day of family and community togetherness.

Today’s American culture makes it challenging to set Sunday aside for worship and family. Kids’ soccer matches, half-off sales and study obligations vie for our attention. Many people have to go to work. And even if they don’t, many still check their phones for work emails and missed calls.

Reading Trapp’s chapter entitled “The Land without a Sunday” about 20 years ago was a wake-up call for me and my husband: Don’t take for granted the great gift of Sunday. And it encouraged us to go further in embracing the fullness of what Sunday means.

In response, our family has a special Sunday protocol. We restrict electronics use, forgo get-togethers with friends, and refrain from working on house and garden projects. We center the day on Mass and family — we pray, then play together, with activities meant to strengthen and feed our family.

Over the years, we have found quite a few things that can engage a family with six kids in a wide spread of ages (4 years up to 20-somethings). We picnic after Mass, go for a hike, or watch family home movies. We play card games, musical instruments or outdoor games, or build a fire and have catechesis. We visit a local park or extended family. To make Sunday dinner more special, we light candles, use the best china dishes, say an extended grace, and make a dessert. Afterward, we finish the day with a family rosary.

The importance of keeping Sunday special is something our popes have weighed in on.

In his 1998 apostolic letter Dies Domini, Pope St. John Paul II wrote that Sunday is “Easter which returns week by week, celebrating Christ’s victory over sin and death. … It is the day which recalls in grateful adoration the world’s first day and looks forward in active hope to ‘the last day,’ when Christ will come in glory … and all things will be made new.”

Pope Pius XII, in his 1947 address on Catholic Action, said that “Sunday must become again the day of the Lord, the day of adoration, of prayer, of rest, of recollection and of reflection, of happy reunion in the intimate circle of the family.”

We are still urgently in need of this message, as the world has become faster-paced, noisier, more stress-filled and more technology-oriented — all things that interfere with directing our thoughts and actions toward God.

Yes, I long for simpler times, and maybe even a village church bell to ring out the hours. Yet in these hectic modern times, we still have the ancient gift of Sunday — a bit of slowness with which to savor our relationships with God and family.

Haec est dies quam fecit Dominus; exultemus et laetemur in ea! (This is the day that the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it!)

Photo: Courtesy Michelle Bruno

Sunday chicken skewers

Plan an after-Mass picnic with your family with these prepare-ahead chicken skewers as the main dish. Keep them on ice in a cooler, then right after church go to a nearby park, spread a blanket and enjoy a feast.

Combine all marinade ingredients in a bowl and whisk together. Place chicken breast strips in a shallow baking dish, pour the marinade over them, cover the dish and let marinate in the refrigerator for at least 2 hours (can also be left overnight).

When ready to cook, soak bamboo skewers in water for an hour and preheat the oven to 425 degrees. Remove chicken from the marinade and thread onto the skewers, arranging them on a rimmed baking sheet lined with aluminum foil. Bake for 16–20 minutes.

It is the holiest tradition to attend the midnight Mass on Christmas. This is one of the four liturgical celebrations offered to celebrate the birth of Christ Jesus: the Vigil Mass, the Mass During the Night, the Mass at Dawn and the Mass During the Day.

It is a custom to display a Nativity scene at the church and at home: Joseph and Mary, Baby Jesus in a manger, a donkey and an ox, the shepherd who represent the Jews, and the Magi who represent the rest of the world. An angel is never missing, and of course the star of Bethlehem is there.

Where does this tradition come from? The birth of the Nativity scene goes back to the 13th century and St. Francis of Assisi.

The Franciscan friar Thomas of Celano said Christmas was always a particularly joyous day for Francis: “If I knew the emperor — he said often — I would beg him to order that wheat is thrown to feed all birds, especially sparrows, and to command all those who have animals in barns to feed them more generously, in memory of the birth of Christ on a manger. I also wish on this solemn day all the rich welcomed the poor at their table!” (Second Life 151; Speculum Perfectionis 124)

In Greccio, John of Velita, a friend of the saint, had offered Francis a highland surrounded by the woods, so he could dwell in there. In 1223, close to Christmas, Francis said to his friend, “Look, I would like to celebrate Christmas with you. I have thought of this: In the woods, close to our hermitage, you will find a grotto: You will display a manger with hay and a donkey and an ox, just like in Bethlehem. I hope at least once I can see through my eyes how the Divine Child slept in the manger, how the Lord surrendered himself to contempt and to extreme poverty out of love for us!”

John of Velita gladly accepted. Having gotten approval from the Holy See, Francis built an altar with the aid of the friars and invited people from all around. By midnight, numerous groups of people arrived holding torches in their hands, while the friars lit candles around the grotto.

During Mass, “when it was time to sing the Gospel — as Thomas of Celano recalls — Francis appeared, with his deacon vestments on. Sighing deeply, feeling his deep devotion burning and radiating his internal joy, the saint stood before the manger and his voice resounded above the crowd teaching about the place where we must look for the highest good. With ineffable sweetness, he spoke about Baby Jesus, the Great King who took upon the human nature, the Christ born in the city of David. At every moment, when Francis mentioned the name of Jesus, the inner flame of his heart put these words in his lips: ‘the Child of Bethlehem’; and this expression found in his lips an extraordinary fascination. He stood before the people as the lamb of God in all the sanctity of his sacrifice.

“When the rite was over, everyone left with their hearts filled with a celestial joy.” (First Life, 80)

This was the first midnight Mass celebrated before the first Nativity scene. The Franciscans, following the example of their seraphic father, spread through the earth this joyous way of venerating Baby Jesus.

As we contemplate our Nativity scene at home this Christmas, may we witness — as Francis did — how Jesus surrendered himself to contempt and to extreme poverty out of love for us.

It was my first Christmas away from my family, and I was alone. I had just moved to the big, loud city of Seattle from my small hometown nestled in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains in northern Georgia. I was away from my family, my friends and my parish — and I was alone on Christmas Day. But you know what? It was OK.

In November 2015, I had moved to Seattle to work at the archdiocesan retreat center. Kevin, my then-boyfriend (now husband), was working for Amazon, and after more than a year of long-distance dating, I’d found a job that would bring us closer together. Months before I had secured my job, however, Kevin had already bought tickets to fly back to Tennessee for Christmas — so the only person I knew in Seattle was going to be thousands of miles away. I would be celebrating Christmas with Kevin’s dog, Murphy.

Gabrielle Nolan

My family and friends felt sorry for me. “You’re spending Christmas alone? Poor girl!” I will admit, it was bizarre to wake up on December 25 and not hear the comforting sounds of siblings laughing or A Charlie Brown Christmas playing over the speakers as our parents made breakfast. Instead, the apartment was quiet and still.

I was thankful at least to be able to connect with my family via technology — a Skype call with my parents, a phone call with my grandmother. I ate breakfast and opened presents that had been mailed to me. I took Murphy outside, and there was no one around. It was a desolate scene — until I drove to Mass at St. Alphonsus Parish in Ballard.

The sanctuary was beautifully decorated with poinsettias, lighted Christmas trees and a Nativity scene. As Mass began, the congregation joyfully sang the classic Christmas hymns and my spirit brightened. Although I was sitting by myself, I was comfortable in the familiarity of the Mass, and I felt at home.

I realized in the beauty of the liturgy that the only truly necessary task to be completed on Christmas was, in fact, to go to Mass. Our culture often leaves Christ out of Christmas, but of course the two are inseparable: Without Christ, there is no Christmas. Without Christ’s birth, there would be no Mass.

Christmas is not about spending time with family, though that is a great gift and a blessing. Christmas is not about baking your favorite cookies or trimming the tree, though those can help us celebrate the season. And Christmas is not about receiving gifts (though the little ones might disagree with me on this).

We must remember that, ultimately, the feast of Christmas is about welcoming our savior, Jesus Christ, into our lives and loving him. Christ is born! We have a savior who wants to share his divine life with us, forgive our offenses and be with us always — until the end of time.

It is through Jesus that we find true charity, joy and peace to share with our families, on Christmas Day and all throughout the year. And even though there is a physical distance between me and my family, I can always unite my prayers to the Holy Family — asking that St. Joseph, the Virgin Mary, and the Child Jesus intercede for us.

If you ever find yourself alone at Christmas, do not despair. Go to Mass. You will be united with your family through the mystical body of Christ. Let the Christ Child draw you near to his heart, and there you will find all you truly need to celebrate the great feast of Christmas.

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